Enigma of Siesna
by masque
Summary: OA, Major AU, SLASH. Anakin faces the greatest challenge of his life on a planet filled with secrets, Sith plots, and a brilliant soul.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Darkness. Spreading slowly as day gives way to night. Creeping silently, shadows emerge from the thick foliage of the forest. They move unseen, save for the small native species that mark their passage with an unnatural stillness, tinged with fear. This procession of vague shapes, caught for a fleeting moment by moonlight, are revealed as no more than six humanoids, armed with blasters, thermal detonators, and deadly intent. As the forest gradually recedes into signs of civilization, the figures pause in silent communication; and with whisper soft steps, they disperse into the sleeping city.  
  
*****  
  
Ranuk Gayor strode purposefully down the street, carefully maintaining a polite smile, but discouraging anyone from approaching. He was late; today of all days, and after berating his fellows only yesterday for not taking the Assembly's vote seriously enough. He sighed. It couldn't be helped. In all the fervor, he'd forgotten Telah wouldn't be there to wake him or see the children off. Then again her last observation was probably true; perhaps he was becoming too narrowly focused.   
  
The delegates wouldn't be arriving for another few hours. Ranunk was simply overseeing the final preparations and security checks. But he sometimes felt as though no one else understood the enormity of what they were doing - undoubtedly a turning point in planetary history, not least of which was the upcoming gathering of delegates from each Province. Even the Rangers had banded together temporarily for the Assembly vote, adding a large push to the ultimately overwhelming majority. That in itself as extraordinary, but in light of Nemagi's conspicuous absence, many were unsure whether to applaud the Ranger's participation or or be wary of hidden motivations.  
  
Aware that such thoughts were far too morbid for this early in the morning, Ranuk ruthlessly pushed aside all the speculation and concentrated on what still needed to be done to ensure tonight was a success. After submitting Siesna's petition for membership to the Galactic Republic nearly a month previous, an investigation team was en route to determine the viability of the planet's petition. Ranuk himself thought this was an unusually swift response for such a large bureaucracy, but was interrupted from this train of thought by his arrival at Linnetth.  
  
The only Hall in this Province large enough to accommodate so many guests, Linneth looked well prepared for the imminent arrival, despite the time constraints. Passing through the first security check, he dily wondered what Telah would wear this evening. He spotted Maren at the archway of the main entrance and headed toward her. Thinking of Telah's comment that he was obsessing, he couldn't wait to introduce the two women; if he was obsessed, Maren was a fanatic. Her attention to detail made him dread the coming conversation.  
  
Setting his mind for the tedious discussion, he quietly greeted Maren, and together they disappeared into the spacious foyer.  
  
Five minutes later, the earth shook as Linneth collapsed amidst the explosions. Above the roar of the fire, screams rang through the streets.  
  
***** 


	2. One

A/N: Okay, this is just an experiment to see what kind of response this may or may not get on ff.net. Flames I use for decorations, so if slash isn't your style, don't read. Please tell me what you think. I'd really love to know. (  
  
***** One *****  
  
"Mission parameters may have changed, but I see no reason to challenge your authority at present, Anakin."  
  
With that pronouncement, he suppressed the sudden desire to stomp his feet and demand they return to Coruscant right now. At the age of twenty-three, he was well beyond such a childish display of temper. A deep breath and a mental curse later, he was ready to address the being sitting across from him, patiently awaiting his response.  
  
"Forgive me, Master Gallia. I find it difficult to concentrate on this assignment when I feel I could better serve elsewhere." 'Ouch. Way to go, add an insult on top of insubordination,' he chided himself.  
  
But compassionate blue eyes gazed serenely back at him and the Master merely smiled. "I understand." He fought the urge to squirm before intimidating figure.  
  
"The assassination attempt on Senator Amidala is distressing, but the Council believes this could be a precursor to events of great import. An accomplished Jedi with extensive knowledge of the Senate and someone the Senator herself was familiar with had to be assigned. Your mission was already in place when the Chancellor requested our help."  
  
"All valid reasons, but that still doesn't explain why my Master is protecting the Senator while I am being sent to Force knows wh-" he cut off abruptly. 'Wait a minute. Rewind. No reason to challenge MY authority? MY mission? What is going on here?'  
  
"Sinking in yet?"  
  
All he could produce was an inarticulate, "Huh?"  
  
Jedi Master Adi Gallia laughed softly at the bewilderment on the padawan's face. It was an unusual situation but by no means unprecedented. Which accounted for the young man's confusion in trying to place why he was responsible for taking the lead on this mission. She guided him slowly to the answer.  
  
"Was your Master assigned to Senator Amidala before or after you received orders to depart for Siesna?"  
  
"After," he replied, as his face settled into a mask of calm deliberation.  
  
"Did you receive your orders from your Master or the Council?" The small tug at the corners of her mouth threatened to become an outright grin.  
  
"The Council, but-"  
  
"And what was his reaction, when you told him our instructions?"  
  
Closing his eyes, he paused and gathered his observations. As he did so, a kind of shocked numbness overtook him as he realized the implications of what Master Gallia was telling him. Belying the tranquil exterior, his voice took on a dazed quality.  
  
"He was surprised and pleased, but also sad, like he had lost something..." he trailed off, returning his focus to the Council member seated across from him. She was beautiful even in the beige and brown robes of the Jedi and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she drew out the moment of suspense. Her headdress framed her face like the mark of royalty as she regally bowed her head in affirmation of the silent question being asked of her.  
  
"The Jedi Council, by the recommendation of your Master, has declared you ready to face your Trials."  
  
The vibrant energy he had been struggling to control throughout the exchange suddenly vanished, and left him feeling disoriented. Anakin's cheeks flushed with shame now as he recalled the argument that preceded his departure. 'If I had known he why he was sending me off-' he cut off that train of thought abruptly. He managed a solemn thank you to Adi before the maelstrom of his emotions threatened to consume him. Adi rose and crossed to him, then placed her hand on his shoulder with a reassuring grip.  
  
"We have two days until we arrive in-system. You know where to find me."  
  
Dropping her hand, she headed toward the door and cued the panel to open. She turned and studied the figure that had yet to acknowledge her departure.  
  
Too softly to be heard, she whispered, "May the Force be with you Padawan Skywalker," and left.  
  
***** 


	3. Two

A/N: And I'll get this last bit in so you can (sorta) get a better idea where it's going.  
  
***** Two *****  
  
...7, 8, 9. Stop. Turn. 1, 2, 3,... Anakin paused, glanced briefly at the closed door, then returned to his pacing, sandy blond braid whipping behind him at the force of his steps. Meditating would probably be much more productive, but he didn't think he'd be able to sit still long enough to find his center. His master would be shaking his head in disappointment if he could see his padawan now. They hadn't parted on the best of terms; that was why he couldn't focus now. Why hadn't his Master told him the reason behind their separation? Perhaps if he had, they wouldn't have had such a spectacular... argument. He refused to call it a fight and reduce it to childish impulsiveness and rebellion.  
  
Then again seeing Master Qui-Gon would accomplish very little; neither had changed their opinion and the longer they argued the more stubborn each became. Which complicated an already intense situation for Padawan Anakin Skywalker.  
  
His Trials. When he was younger, he had thought they would involve physical and academic examinations through which he could prove his worthiness. He had only recently understood what his Master had been trying to teach him for years: the inner struggle was far more dangerous than any external obstacle. A struggle he secretly felt he was fated to lose.  
  
With slow deep breaths, he focused on calming himself, releasing the frustration, anxiety, and excitement buzzing through his system. He dismissed his surface thoughts as inconsequential.  
  
'Break down the overwhelming into its parts. Isolate one circuit and trace the malfunction to its source. Then repair and reintegrate.'  
  
Unfortunately emotions were infinitely more complex than hyperdrive engines, and at the same time, frighteningly simple. Anakin knew the emotions haunting him; they had done so all his life, and remained despite the efforts of the masters.  
  
Another deep breath and he relaxed his mental shielding slightly, allowing the Force to embrace him completely.  
  
Anger. An emotion he was far too familiar with for a Jedi. Thoughts, faces, feelings, and images assaulted his mind as he contemplated his anger, and he struggled not to be pulled into the vortex.  
  
~Focus on the Moment~  
  
The reminder sounded suspiciously like his master, and he spared a thought to wonder how Master Qui-Gon was doing. Probably chatting away with Padme as though no time had passed, watching her eyes shine, hearing her laugh. Had she changed since becoming a Senator? Anakin doubted it. Nothing could destroy the warmth and compassion he remembered so vividly. He would give anything to be able to protect her from harm, to see her again. But in his absence, he knew he could trust Master Qui-Gon to watch over her.  
  
Which directed his focus to the source of his current unrest: the argument with his master directly before his departure. THE argument. The polite, civilized, and extremely opinionated debate. He was giving it more power over his emotions than he should, he knew, but the Force urged him to consider it more carefully.  
  
Emotional attachments.  
  
Now that he thought about it, Master Qui-Gon had probably been about to tell him about the Trials. But that had gone right out the proverbial window after he'd heard that Qui-Gon was going to see Padme. Without him.  
  
Love.  
  
Now that he had some distance, he could see that he had reacted out of misplaced emotion. The dreams of his mother were getting worse and he'd transferred that buried longing for love and comfort to Padme. She belonged to the memories he cherished and Anakin knew he could love her if given the chance.  
  
Anakin thought this confusion and the resulting anger at being denied Padme was his mistake. But his Master had argued that ~any~ emotional attachment was wrong and pointed out Anakin's reactions as proof of how harmful they could be. Which became a rather forceful debate about the Code. They had been at it for two hours before Anakin had had to either abandon the discussion or miss his transport.  
  
'The same argument,' he realized. For as long as he could remember he'd quietly disagreed. As the dutiful padawan, he'd never really voiced his opinion, but it was out there now, spoken, and couldn't be taken back.  
  
'Am I wrong? he questioned. He looked to the Force for guidance and as always it answered his call.  
  
~NO.~  
  
The strength of the reply assured him that his instincts were correct. 'Then why can't they feel that I'm right?'  
  
Anakin gave the equivalent of a mental sigh. What the Council, the teaching masters, and even Master Qui-Gon taught were impossible for him to accept. He tried to at least understand their point of view, Force knows he'd tried. But something inside him had always screamed the wrongness of their tradition. And that's what he understood it to be: tradition, not philosophy.  
  
"Emotional attachments eliminate the possibility of objective understanding of the will of the Force," he recalled. Learning to discern your own will from the promptings of the Force was hard enough, they'd pointed out, and a heart clouded by emotion would make this next to impossible.  
  
But Anakin was left dumbfounded by the assumption the entire Order had made: that it was even ~possible~ to be objective. No one had yet explained this assumption to his satisfaction, although Master Yoda remained unusually silent whenever Anakin brought the topic around to love and why it was, in effect, forbidden. Even Master Qui- Gon couldn't reason his way through Anakin's mind, though he had never stopped trying. And Anakin loved him for it, for not giving up on him. Which in itself was a paradox. He loved Qui-Gon like a father, and he knew Qui-Gon loved him. The hypocrisy of it fueled his anger.  
  
He consciously controlled his temper, detached that thought, and examined it.  
  
'No, not hypocrisy. It only sounds that way because they really believe they *are* objective,' he realized with astonishment.  
  
They believe that the ability to set your own needs and desires aside to serve the greater good makes it possible to *be* emotionally objective.'  
  
And with that thought, Anakin felt a chill sweep through his soul. He felt completely alien to those who had helped raise him and train him. Because if there was one thing Anakin understood intuitively and believed with all his being, it was that the universe was subjective. For anyone, Jedi or no, emotions existed. And any attempt to deny that was a travesty against the web of life that was the Force.  
  
At the same time, he realized that there was no one in the entire Jedi Order who would agree with him or see his point of view. Not even his beloved master.  
  
A very old pain came back to him then. Something he hadn't felt since before Qui-Gon had taken him as padawan and assured him he had a place and was well loved.  
  
He was alone.  
  
***** Again, there's that cute little button that say 'GO' and you can tell me what you think. 


	4. Three

As Anakin stepped onto the landing ramp of their transport, he took note of his surroundings with some surprise. A warm breeze drifted across his face and he wondered how it was possible for a society to remain so isolated from the rest of the galaxy. The information in his briefing pad was scant at best, but even the description of a non-technological society hadn't prepared him for what he saw.  
  
There were no speeders, swoops, or shuttles: no sign of advanced mechanics, electronics, information terminals or droids anywhere. Most everyone he saw was walking to their destination, while a few rode equaras on unpaved roads. The buildings were made with clean lines and geometrical shapes, though none were raised above four stories, with the exception of the Governor's Palace. And everywhere there were signs of nature. Trees, bushes, plants, flowers, gardens overflowed and yet complemented the bustling city instead of taking it over. The spaceport and its occupants were an anomaly within the rustic atmosphere.  
  
He felt rather than heard Master Gallia's presence at his shoulder, but her whispered, "Padawan?" reminded him that he did not have the luxury of standing around like an awe-struck initiate. /Time to show her what I can do,/ he thought.  
  
Grounding himself, he reached for his center, reflexively seeking the Force to aid him. The dark tremors he felt heightened his suspicion that this investigation was far from routine; the sense of danger wasn't immediate, but the threat was enough to put him on guard.  
  
Anakin turned to his companion, "I believe the acting governor is expecting us. Shall we?"  
  
"By all means. Lead on," Adi replied.  
  
*****  
  
Standing in the richly furnished offices of the Provincial Governor, Anakin and Adi watched as the acting governor gracefully stepped around the huge marble desk and pulled the overstuffed leather chair out. The handsome older woman looked at the two Jedi with sadness and determination.  
  
"My husband, my nyaro, was a prominent activist in the move for Republic membership, honored Jedi. The whole of Ria'Antes Province grieves his passing. Until new elections can be held, I will stand in his place."  
  
Lady Telah Gayor bowed her head, allowing midnight black hair streaked with silver to shield her face as the depth of her loss overcame her. Anakin watched her carefully and noted the genuine grief in her voice as she spoke.  
  
"Ranuk was a good man. He left early that morning to make sure everything was running smoothly at Linneth. That evening was to be his greatest achievement, a historical moment for Siesna." She paused and gathered herself. "He was elected by the largest majority in the history of Ria'Antes, and organized the Assembly into a functioning body of government. Always doing whatever he could to improve life for his people. ~He~ is the reason you are here." With a brittle smile and determined eyes, she turned to the Jedi and motioned for them to sit.  
  
"What can you tell us about the attack?" Anakin asked gently.  
  
Lady Telah sighed. "Only that facts are very few, and rumors are abundant. The Assembly was to be convened at Linneth. With its size and grandeur, we hoped to make a good first impression. I am told, however, that it was definitely not chosen for potential security. Access to the Hall was restricted, but its design was filled with hidden passages and entrances that were never properly mapped out."  
  
"The explosives?" Anakin prompted.  
  
"From what we can tell, there were several highly concentrated charges planted throughout the building. We haven't been able to determine exactly what was used, but as you've probably noticed our technological development leaves us at a disadvantage."  
  
Adi leaned forward, "You mentioned rumors?"  
  
"Yes. You will more than likely hear them from numerous sources, so I will only tell you what we know for certain. Of the seventeen Provinces, sixteen voted unanimously for Republic membership. Officially Nemagi Province abstained from the vote, but they, or more specifically Lord Nier, continually ignored the summons. In addition, they have cut off all trade agreements and have intensified guardianship of their borders." She paused and Anakin could see she was choosing her words very carefully. "Each Province is essentially an independent entity and Nemagi Province is currently abiding by all of our planetary laws. But taking into account that region's history, Lord Nier is certainly acting out of character."  
  
Anakin lifted an eyebrow at this and silently urged her to continue.  
  
"Lord Nier has been re-elected four times, an extremely unusual occurrence, but considering how well loved he was by his people, no one thought anything of it. He couldn't be classed as liberal-minded by any means, but his ideas and innovations were progressive, foremost among them, his desire for interplanetary trade. Siesna has only one active spaceport; Lord Nier campaigned for the construction of another."  
  
Her narrative stopped abruptly and her gaze became unfocused. After a few moments, Anakin looked at Adi, but she shook her head and waited patiently for Lady Telah to return to the present. Anakin firmly took hold of his impatience and squashed it. /You'd think that after spending so much time with Master Qui-Gon, I'd have mastered patience by now,/ he thought ruefully.  
  
Just then something flickered at the edge of his awareness, but before he could pursue it, Lady Telah slowly resumed speaking.  
  
"Eight years ago, he stopped attending political functions. Relations with bordering provinces became strained and he cut off all communication not directly related to the office of governor. No one outside of Nemagi Province has seen him in six years."  
  
At this, Telah stood wearily and regarded the pair with tired warmth. "There is little more I can tell you. Ranuk would probably have had words of wisdom and strength. But I am not him," she finished softly.  
  
Anakin's voice was filled with compassion. "Strength comes in many forms, my Lady. We are sorry for your loss." She looked at him, then nodded.  
  
"There will be a reception this evening to welcome the Jedi and introduce you to the delegates from each Province. Tomorrow will be devoted to showing you our world, and answering any questions you have for us. I will have someone show you to your quarters so you may rest before this evening." Recognizing the dismissal, the Jedi bowed and took their leave.  
  
As Anakin left the chamber, he tried to grasp the itch in the back of his mind. For a brief second he felt the disturbance again, but just as he was aware of it, it was gone. Pushing aside his frustration, he looked to Master Gallia to see if she had noticed it. But either she was ignoring it until they could discuss it openly, or she hadn't felt it. Anakin suspected the latter. He forced himself to relax and expanded his awareness. He would be alert and attentive. They were being watched.  
  
*****  
Four  
*****  
  
The Jedi stand out among the colorful plumage of the Assembly members. He watches them from the shadows, engaging, charming, soothing. He smiles to himself, amused. His orders are specific: Watch. Do not interfere. But his target is an exception. Someone he would suffer no censure for eliminating. Avoiding the Rangers who guard the exits, as well as the more subtle ones who are disguised amongst the crowd, especially Kenobi, he moves toward a dark-haired woman in conversation with the tall Jedi. He waits patiently. Eventually she walks away. He follows her.  
  
*****  
  
'The reception is a necessary evil,' Obi-Wan thought to himself. 'But that doesn't make it any less tedious.' He wished desperately that he could allow himself to be distracted, but that would betray all that he and the Rangers had worked for.   
  
"Kenobi, sir?"  
  
Obi-Wan turned his head and indicated with a small nod that he was listening. The young man quietly relayed the status report while sharp green eyes never left the activity of the reception. When he finished, the young man stepped back and blended seamlessly into a conversation with a group of politicians.   
  
Satisfied that the situation was under control for a brief moment, Obi-Wan stepped out onto one of the isolated balconies that Lady Telah refused to close off. 'That woman is as stubborn and independent as her husband was,' he thought sadly. Running a hand through his shoulder length ginger hair, he acknowledged his feelings of guilt. 'I should have been here. I knew something was going to happen.'  
  
But the Elders had sent for him. His continued association with the Rangers was barely tolerated as it was, if they knew the true extent of his involvement...he could not fathom the consequences. So he went to avoid their suspicion.  
  
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It was a tragedy, yes, but the Darkness had shown its hand and would, he felt, do so again tonight. He accepted and embraced his guilt, allowing it to fuel his determination.   
  
'I will *not* let this happen again.' Casting out his senses, he searched for the elusive thread of greed, hatred, and chilling anger he had encountered before leaving Linneth.   
  
There. It was slippery, but when he could grasp it, he knew it was close, and growing in intensity.  
  
A predator.  
  
Quick as thought, he was through the balcony doors. A silent signal to the closest guard and the Rangers had discreetly blocked the exits.   
  
But not before he noticed a tall blond figure in a subdued brown robe slip out.  
  
*****  
  
Anakin knew something was...off.   
  
Yet despite his control and diligence in remaining calm, he couldn't pinpoint what bothered him. He knew *something* was going to happen.   
  
And from the whispers in the Force, he knew it was going to change his life.  
  
Anakin sighed, pushing his anxiety aside and concentrated on the here and now. He was satisfied that his plan was coming along nicely.   
  
Master Gallia was in her element. A dry wit, intelligent eyes, and an elegant presence, she could charm the entire room if she wished. She could also draw the attention of the more extravagant politicians, giving Anakin the opportunity to gather intelligence from people who knew everything about everyone, whether aware of it or not: aides, secretaries, and servants.  
  
Although he was not ignorant of diplomatic small talk, in fact many years with Qui-Gon had practically guaranteed he learned something of it, Anakin knew that Adi completely outshined him in this area. It was pointless and foolish to pretend otherwise. So he had divided their responsibilities, each to their own strength.  
  
Already he had quite a few bits of information gathered from various sources, he just had to figure out how the puzzle fit together. One comment in particular peaked Anakin's curiosity: just before Lord Nier had dropped out of sight, an extensive mining operation in the mountains of Nemagi Province had yielded disastrous results.   
  
Anakin hadn't yet found out what those results were, but his instincts told him this trivial incident was important.  
  
Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck rose. He turned around to see a young dark haired woman, dressed in a simple and tasteful indigo dress, approaching him, hands clasped in front her and covered by long sleeves. She gave a short nod in greeting.   
  
"Honored Jedi. I expect you are learning many things about our world."  
  
Again the Force whispered to him. "Yes," he replied simply.  
  
She regarded him curiously for a moment. When he remained silent, the corner of her mouth turned up in dark amusement.   
  
"Very good." Her eyes slowly traveled the length of his body, and Anakin suppressed a shudder at her lustful gaze. "You're smarter than you look." A reluctant sigh and her eyes returned to his face. "There are things I must tell you. But not here." With that, she turned and left the hall.  
  
Anakin followed.  
  
*****   
  
'She knows these passageways rather well for a guest,' he noted wryly.   
  
She had led him to a different corner of the palace, well apart from the noise and chatter of the crowd. They walked down a deserted corridor, slipping past the occasional guard. Heading through a narrow set of doors, they stepped onto a balcony with a beautiful view of the forest glistening in the moonlight, offset by mountains in the distance.  
  
Anakin began second-guessing the woman's motives. Their surroundings were more suited to a romantic tryst than meeting an informant. He watched as she strolled to the edge and leaned against the railing, any trace of seductive teasing gone from her face.  
  
"You've heard the rumors?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"And no one has mentioned the apophylite." This was more statement   
than question.     
  
"Apophylite?"   
  
"The crystal we were mining." Distractedly, she murmured "Strange. I didn't think I was the first to get out."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
She stared at him for a long moment, and the shadows in her eyes spoke of misery and pain. "We worked."   
  
Abruptly her expression darkened and she advanced on him. "Do you know what it's like to have your freedom stripped from you? To have every movement, every thought, watched? To know you are nothing more than what others can get out of you?" she asked harshly.  
  
Anakin was caught off guard. The bitterness and hatred in her voice sparked something inside of him. Yes, he knew. He could never forget.    
  
She cut him off before he could respond, "Of course not. You're a Jedi. Powerful and emotionless." She turned away and looked blindly at the forest before her.     
  
Her words were like a blow to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he did understand, but the words wouldn't come. Defensive and frustrated, he didn't sense the danger until too late.  
  
A blinding light and the shockwave and debris from the blast threw him to the ground. Then Anakin was falling as the balcony gave way.  
  
Warmth.   
  
A strong hand closing around his, stopping his rapid descent. Anakin looked up and the image of fire reflected in emerald green eyes.   
  
Pain shot though his arm as he was lifted to safety, but it was dull and inconsequential compared to the warmth and peace flowing from the arms that held him as he lost consciousness.   
  
***** 


	5. Four

Author's Note: I got one review! Yay! I am so easy to please. I'd forgotten this was here. For anyone interested, here's more.  
  
*****  
  
`Almost too late.'  
  
The words kept circling in Obi-Wan's mind, like an echo in a vast room, and he wondered why this thought reduced him to mind-numbing panic. Looking down at the young man in his arms, he unconsciously tightened his grip in a belated effort to protect him from harm. The blood seemed incongruous on such an innocent-looking face. Reluctantly, he loosened his grip and conducted a more thorough examination of injuries.   
  
Open laceration from a rather large chunk of concrete on the right leg, two cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, numerous abrasions and contusions, possibly a mild concussion but nothing life-threatening.    
  
However, there was nothing to be done for the Jedi's companion. The assassin had been successful, and in Obi-Wan's estimation, unintentionally merciful. He had reached the terrace in time to feel the young woman's shock and then nothing.   
  
`Rest well and may your soul fly free,' he thought.  
  
Obi-Wan knew he only had a few minutes at best before they were discovered, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon the one precious life he had managed to save. Resolving to give himself a long lecture about unnecessary risks later, he proceeded to heal what he could and hoped he would be able to sense the imminent arrival of gawking onlookers.  
  
Briefly thankful that his charge was unconscious, he swiftly reset the dislocated shoulder and grimaced in sympathy at the soft cry his actions caused.  
  
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and stilled his body. Focusing on the bright presence of the man in his arms, Obi-Wan gathered the life-power around himself and sent a tendril of energy outward, only to stop short at the intensity of the shields guarding the Jedi's mind. They were certainly stronger than any he'd encountered before. Obi-Wan heightened the amount of life-power he used and tapped on the shields lightly in a mental question, sending waves of reassurance and safety.  
  
Immediately, the intensity of the shields decreased, granting Obi-Wan access and embracing his presence with an eagerness that was disquieting.  
  
`It's almost as though he recognizes me,' he thought with a slight sense of wonder.    
  
Employing a lifetime of discipline and experience, he easily drew the power of these feelings of wonder, protectiveness, and worry around him and used them to direct the healing energy now flowing between them. Within moments, the pain and tension were gone, torn flesh and cracked bones mending at an incredible rate.   
  
When Obi-Wan opened his eyes, he was amazed by his progress. He knew he was one of the strongest mages of his people, but never had his attempts at healing been this responsive. Fresh scars and pink skin had replaced ruptured tissue, and he knew this had taken only minutes, not the long draining hours he was familiar with.    
  
He gently placed the Jedi into a more comfortable position; stretched out on the floor, his head resting on Obi-Wan's lap. The strong features had softened in the absence of pain, lending him an ethereal beauty in the waning moonlight.  
  
`So young,' he thought. Obi-Wan smiled at the irony. Many would judge him young by his appearance, who was he to assign that moniker? He was easily twice as old as he appeared, though no one had any reason to ask.  
  
Withdrawing back into himself, he gradually tapered off the healing energy. As he did so, a small ache wound its way through his body along with a tightening in his chest and a blossoming headache. `I think I overdid it.'  
  
The young Jedi became restless, reaching out for the retreating warmth and comfort blindly, until Obi-Wan softly cupped the Jedi's face with his hand and stroked his hair soothingly with calloused fingers.     
  
"It's all right. You're safe," he whispered softly.  
  
And like a permission granted, the Jedi nestled his face into the outstretched palm. Obi-Wan was strangely content just to sit like this for the rest of the night. But reality clamored for his attention.  
  
"Arda Kenobi?"  
  
Panic flooded his mind briefly, but was controlled as he faced the interruption. `Thank the skies, it's only Nauco.' He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and reluctantly extracted himself from the Jedi. The boy's faint murmur of protest lit something in him he hadn't the time to examine.  
  
A smug grin touched the dark brown features of the man before him.  
  
"You must hurry, Arda. Lady Telah and the Jedi are coming, as well as your adoring fans."   
  
Spoken with the irrepressible sarcastic humor he had come to expect from Nauco, the eyes behind the grin informed him a lecture on endangering himself was being held in reserve for the earliest opportunity.  
  
"I know, I know." Taking a last glance at the blond figure, and turned to Nauco. "Watch after him?"  
  
With a puzzled smile, Nauco gave his assent and Obi-Wan vanished into the corridor.  
  
*****  
Six  
*****  
  
"Anakin?"  
  
He opened his eyes to find Master Gallia's concerned face peering down on him. Hastily he sat up and scanned the room, wincing at the headache pounding through his skull. Curious guests, Lady Telah, and a few of the Rangers he had observed during the reception milled about, but there was no sign or sense of the bright presence with penetrating green eyes.   
  
Feeling slightly bereft, Anakin glanced briefly at the remnants of the balcony and held back a shudder as he realized how close he'd come to death. It was not an unusual occurrence, he'd been in far more dire circumstances more times than he could count. It was the suddenness, for lack of a better word. He hadn't felt it coming. And that was the problem.   
  
His hands moved without thought to his ribcage and leg, confirming what he already knew. A dull ache had taken up residence in his body and the newly healed skin tightened painfully when he stretched. But aside from that and the headache that had yet to subside, one could hardly tell he'd been injured less than an hour ago.  
  
"Have they found her?" Anakin asked.   
  
Without missing a beat, Adi answered, "At the bottom of the ravine. She was killed instantly in the blast."  
  
Unsteadily, Anakin reached his feet. His thoughts were a confused muddle of emotion, information and logic. A state he was becoming rather familiar with, he noted. "This doesn't make sense," he muttered angrily.  
  
"Calm yourself, Padawan." Her tone held the rebuke of the Council, but interlaced with it was compassion. "Accept your feelings and let go. Remove yourself from the equation and find the pattern."  
  
`Easy for you to say, you didn't get anyone killed,' he thought.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Adi folded her arms across her chest. "I admit, the lack of warning I find disturbing. I sensed nothing of this."  
  
Anakin blinked. So it wasn't just him. He'd been distracted in those last moments, yes. The woman had pushed his buttons, albeit unknowingly. It wasn't the first time he'd lost control but always some warning of danger managed to slip through his emotions and alert him. But here, on the terrace there had been nothing.   
  
And Master Gallia had confirmed it. This was not a coincidence. The skill required to mask a Force-signature was beyond all but the most adept Jedi Masters. Unexpectedly, an echo of his recent healing raced through his system, mixed with a memory of infinite green eyes and red-gold hair.   
  
Ignoring the pounding in his head and heart, he addressed their suspicions. "There could be Force-sensitives on Siesna."  
  
Adi shook her head. "There's been no evidence of that. And the possibility that someone here could have such an awareness as to be able to channel it to that degree? Highly unlikely."  
  
Anakin's eyes drifted to the tall Ranger with chocolate skin who caught his gaze with a grim smile.   
  
"I don't think we should dismiss it so lightly, Master Gallia. But we'll see where the Force takes us." His eyes remained focused on the Ranger who was directing security for the diplomats. "We need to know more about Nemagi Province. The woman mentioned something about apophylite. I think it would be best if we ask questions while everyone is so willing to give answers."  
  
Adi followed his gaze, and turned back to Anakin with a puzzled frown. "I'll start with Lady Telah. You seem to have the Rangers covered." Looking into Anakin's troubled eyes, Adi's expression changed to one of concern. "Will you be alright?"  
  
How to answer that? Anakin was more unsettled than ever. Too many things were crowding his mind. The effective concealment of such Darkness from two Jedi indicated the presence of the Sith, not that he would say that to Master Gallia. She knew it just as he did. But until they could prove it, they would hope another explanation would present itself.   
  
The possibility of Sith involvement, his recent doubts about the Jedi, the pressure of his Trials, the attacks, his rescue, those eyes...made for one befuddled padawan. He felt like his life was spiraling out of control, and it was a feeling he detested.   
  
`And this damned headache isn't helping!'    
  
He inhaled sharply, held it, and then slowly released his breath. Desperately, he tried to find some sense of peace in the Force. A soft caress and a warm glow answered him with strange familiarity. 'Thank you, Master.'  
  
Aloud he said, "Yes, Master Gallia. I'll be fine."   
  
Adi wasn't convinced, but it was not her place to draw Anakin out. He would have to find his own path. She was merely an observer, meant to watch and support, and only intervene when there was no other choice. She was confident that wouldn't be necessary. But she wished she could somehow make this easier for a padawan with so many burdens already. Not being able to help was its own trial. She found Lady Telah across the room, nodded to Anakin and set off.  
  
Before he had time to turn around, Anakin heard a light, teasing voice in his ear, "Shouldn't you be resting?"  
  
"Ranger...Nauco?"  
  
"Jedi Skywalker. I don't suppose you're a workaholic whose devotion to duty supercedes personal health?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Because in my opinion, someone who's just been practically blown up shouldn't be trying to find all of life's answers in one night and exhausting himself in the process."  
  
In spite of himself, Anakin laughed. Nauco had a charm and honesty about him that engendered trust. His relaxed attitude should have seemed out of place under these circumstances, but Anakin saw the way he took in the room and its inhabitants and knew that no matter what his demeanor, the Ranger was a keen observer. He had a feeling Master Qui-Gon would get along well with him.  
  
"I've always been an overachiever."  
  
Nauco's face split into a wide grin. "Ah, so Jedi do have a sense of humor. Now there's a chance of me believing you if you say you're fine."  
  
Still smiling, Anakin said, "There seems to be a lot I don't know about the Rangers. Your over-protective tendencies, for example. But why I should be your target, I don't understand."  
  
Nauco answered with a shrug. "As you said, there's a lot you don't know about us."  
  
"I'd like to change that."  
  
"We ~have~ told you everything we know about the attacks," he said pointedly. "We prepared as well as we could. Any loss of life is tragic, but I'm grateful that the many were spared. I understand the need to find answers, Jedi Skywalker, but we can learn nothing more tonight."   
  
Nauco smiled again and there was a mischievous glint in his eye as he spoke. "Lady Telah has already informed us that she intends to proceed with the scheduled tour tomorrow. I'll be happy to satisfy your curiosity in the morning. Until then, I suggest you get some sleep." He nodded and turned to leave.  
  
A brief debate raged inside Anakin between his practiced patience and a burning desire to know who had rescued him. The hunger won.  
  
"Nauco, wait. There was someone here...before. He saved me. He had green eyes and red-gold hair. Was he one of your Rangers?"  
  
Nauco paused mid-stride. "No." He turned back and searched Anakin's eyes. Anakin suspected he was being evaluated. As Nauco's features twitched in delight, he knew he had been found worthy. Nauco's words were a benediction, spoken with reverence. "He is one of the Quenya."   
  
Nauco bowed in a more formal farewell, "Good night," and left the room.  
  
***** 


	6. Five

Thank you, Dark Jedi Girl and Skyelight2x1 for your reviews! It's wonderful to see that little blip in my mailbox, and more than just "I like it." written there. I've been horribly slow with my list updates recently and have been paying for it with little to no feedback. Question of soul mates: I was thinking a lot of things when I first started this, and yes the idea came up. If you mean a "bonding" story, no it's not going there. As for soul mates, I guess that all depends on what you mean by it. There definitely will be romance J. ok, nuff blathering. More fic!  
  
Oh, and feel free to disregard the weird numbering going on. Long story.   
  
*****   
Seven  
*****  
  
It was a tense group that gathered at the palace stables the next morning. The bright sunshine had chased away the gloomy shadows of the night past but nothing could erase the memory of fear.   
  
A good night's sleep had been a very good idea. If only Anakin could have managed it. Pain, guilt, and overwhelming grief haunted his dreams, driving him from sleep.   
  
As he looked out across the dew stained grass of the clearing, all he could see were the images that hovered on the edge of consciousness. The woman's eyes, twisted with bitterness and hate, accused him with deafening silence. As he watched, her face changed and became older, more weary, and darkened from too much exposure to the suns. In his mother's eyes he found disappointment and shame. But the worst had been looking into those beautiful green eyes, and the pain and the infinite sadness that touched Anakin's soul as he was torn away.    
  
He'd managed a few hours' rest, drifting on the soothing memory of peace his rescuer had given him. When he encountered this...Quenya again, and Anakin knew he would, he'd have to thank him twice over.   
  
The reactions of the politicians spoke exceedingly well for the people of Siesna, in Anakin's opinion. They were providing a genuine united front and continuing with their schedules in defiance of their assailant. True, this was probably not the wisest course of action, but it was certainly understandable. Even logical, from a certain point of view.   
  
The journey through Embare Province would give the Jedi a look into the agrarian lifestyle that accounted for two-thirds of the planet's population. It was also one of the more scenic routes, with rolling hills and picturesque lakes. But the most fascinating landscape was the forest bordering on the edge of Milaera Province.   
  
A small mining company had conducted a preliminary geographic survey on Siesna less than a century ago, and it comprised the bulk of the briefing information Anakin had received. The survey had not been helpful in evaluating the planet from an anthropological perspective, not being useful for the company's purposes. But it did note an interesting bit of information on a particular forest that supposedly didn't exist. Any attempt to map the wooded area failed. The technical readouts of the terrain conflicted. Large, small, dense, sparse, all were correct and wrong according to the scanners.   
  
The survey team even went so far as to try and chart the forest by ground transport. Three separate teams recorded different results, and at a loss, they put it down to a geographic anomaly in the footnote of their report.   
  
When Anakin had asked about the forest, he had simply been told it was Eldalye, the Forest of Secrets. Apparently it was a subject of much speculation and the object of many children's fairy tales. He smiled at the thought of getting lost in an enchanted forest that constantly changed in appearance.   
  
He could say that his curiosity was a result of his master's unorthodox theories. Legends and myths were often keys to understanding a culture's history and morals, hidden in the context of a parable. But in truth, the possibility of a magical woodland excited the little boy who remembered falling asleep to stories of brave knights, daring adventures, and flying among the stars. He was looking forward to seeing this Eldalye. It was the mode of transportation he was having trouble with.   
  
Anakin warily approached the four-legged beast he was supposed to ride this morning. 'A Jedi is adaptable. A Jedi does not break, but bends in the winds of adversity. A Jedi is not afraid of being kicked off an equara.'  
  
'They're also aware of their limitations,' he thought in exasperation as he struggled to adjust the harness. He'd never acquired Master Qui-Gon's skill in dealing with animals. Anakin's strengths lay in mechanics and he wondered if he wasn't given this mission solely because of it.   
  
Looking around the clearing, he saw the half dozen representatives and their respective aides all sitting astride their equaras with practiced ease. He was only slightly mollified by Master Gallia's less than graceful ascent.   
  
His own mare looked ready to bolt at the slightest opportunity. He stroked the coarse mane and looked steadily into the equara's eyes as he'd been taught by Master Qui-Gon. Making sure to keep his movements unhurried and murmuring a steady stream of quiet reassurances, Anakin moved toward the saddle and placed a foot in the stirrup. In the blink of an eye, he was in the saddle and again stroking the long neck from above, sending soft praise and gratitude for the mare's acquiescence.   
  
"Nicely done, Jedi Skywalker." Anakin was unsurprised to see Nauco smiling at him. "Though I think you're more nervous than the equara."  
  
With a wry grin, Anakin informed him, "This is definitely not something I'm used to."  
  
"In that case, I'll give you a word of advice. Ride with the equara, not on top of her. You'll save yourself a number of strained muscles."  
  
"I'll do that, thanks. Are your companions going to join us, or just shadow us for the duration?"  
  
Nauco laughed and narrowed his eyes in calculation. "Not much gets by you does it?"   
  
'You'd be surprised,' Anakin thought. They'd been very difficult to locate, and he certainly couldn't see the three Rangers he sensed. In fact, he might have missed them entirely, if not for the faint quiver in his stomach, and the frantic pulse of his heart.  
  
*He* was out there.  
  
"They'll follow at a distance, but close enough should we need them. I wouldn't expect much until we cross into Embare. There will be more territory to cover then with limited numbers. And the people of Embare are not known for their tolerance of the Rangers. Given that we usually have little reason to intrude on their lands, it hasn't been an issue until now."  
  
"Why? What is it exactly that you do, why would the Embare resent your presence?"  
  
"The Embare don't resent us. In their eyes, we're just...obsolete. Actually, if I understand the function of a Jedi correctly, our duties are rather similar. We act as independent agents of law enforcement. At one time, we were actively involved in safeguarding the government, acting as emissaries, security, and political advisors bound to no one province or governor. The need for our services has diminished, however, and most people, including the Embare, regard the Rangers as an antiquated symbol of Siesna's history."     
  
"Sounds vaguely familiar. But, who are the Quenya?"   
  
"Ah. Now that is not my secret to share. But I have no doubt you'll learn soon enough." He looked around at the others mounted on their equaras. "It looks like everyone is ready to leave. Shall we join them?"  
  
In response, Anakin tugged slightly on the reins and the mare trotted toward the rest of their company.   
  
*****  
Eight  
*****  
  
Obi-Wan couldn't take his eyes off Anakin. His fiery spirit was at odds with the passive demeanor. Mentally he thanked Nauco for making Anakin smile every so often; it brightened his face and lightened his aura.   
  
'Anakin,' his mind sighed longingly. Something in his heart seemed to spring forth and dance for joy when Anakin so much as glanced in his general direction. He'd never felt anything like this and ached to explore what it meant but he dared not. Nauco's inevitable lecture on staying focused hadn't been long in coming, but it had lacked his usual enthusiasm.  
  
When Obi-Wan had asked about the Jedi, he'd been infuriatingly vague, saying only that "Jedi Anakin Skywalker is recovering with lively humor."   
  
At least he finally knew the Jedi's name. Anakin Skywalker. Quite appropriate for one who traveled the stars.   
  
This was not good. Every train of thought led him back to Anakin. Obi-Wan found him fascinating. Anakin's companion, the Jedi Master, fit the image Obi-Wan ascribed to the Jedi Order right down to the serene calm that seemed a permanent fixture on her face. It was meant to engender trust and authority, but he found the effect disturbing. Anakin, on the other hand, smiled, laughed, frowned and joked with Nauco as naturally as the sunrise. His attitude was rebellious and carefree, but confined within a strict discipline that threatened to smother his potential.   
  
Obi-Wan had refused Nauco's suggestion that he ride with the group. His presence would cause too many questions and Obi-Wan feared he wouldn't be able to focus on anything except Anakin.   
  
Not that he was having much success, but at least he wouldn't be distracted by conversation. No matter how much he wanted to hear that voice.   
  
The morning's ride had been pleasant and undisturbed, a gentle reminder of the inherent peace of Siesna. The Embare Province had proven to be extremely enjoyable and the Rangers had been accepted easily as part of a ceremonial entourage. Some might mistake the people's simplicity as a lack substance, but for Obi-Wan their existence always made him pause and remember the small, singular actions that could bring joy or immeasurable grief.   
  
The basic rhythms of life never changed. Waking, working the fields with the sun on your back, afternoons filled with the laughter of children, perhaps an evening swim. Men, women, and children that were living, laughing and loving. This was what Obi-Wan wanted to protect. He and others had worked tirelessly with the Rangers for generations, ensuring the planet's stability and continued evolution, preparing them for the eventual loss of the Quenya's influence and protection. 'We've succeeded a little too well,' he thought.  
  
The Quenya were now a myth, and the Elders preferred it that way. But the Darkness threatened everything and the people of Siesna were their responsibility, even if he was the only one who saw that. The others were ready for the Journey, but not Obi-Wan. His rebelliousness was often seen as a last effort to preserve their race. There was a certain truth to that, but more precisely it was that Obi-Wan had always felt torn, incomplete.  
  
He was one of a handful of the last generation of Quenya who had hidden themselves from the general public and for the most part the governing entities. Only the Rangers and the world's top leaders knew they still existed. The Quenya Elders had warned Obi-Wan time and again that they would allow him this last mission to protect the public from the Darkness they all felt. But he could not let his presence be known to anyone and must return soon to take his place as leader among the Quenya and their quickly disappearing numbers. Above all else no interference.   
  
Looking at the attractive features of the handsome Jedi trying to hide his discomfort in the saddle, Obi-Wan began to think he might be able to feel whole after all.  
  
But the conflict between his heart and mind grew worse.   
  
*****   
  
Still a few hours from the border of Milaera, in a relatively open area, a high-pitched whine shattered the tranquility of the afternoon.   
  
Half a dozen swoops closed in on the group, and while the Jedi activated their lightsabers, Obi-Wan's equara broke into a run to reach them. No weapons discharged on the first pass, but the equaras went wild, bucking and kicking, and threw a few of the less experienced riders to the ground.   
  
Obi-Wan and Nauco ran to herd the group together and move them toward the cover of trees less than half a kilometer away, but the erratic attack pattern, unruly equaras, and panicked diplomats made their task difficult. Master Gallia and Anakin dismounted and split up, defending as much territory as possible as the first shots sound out through the clearing.   
  
Laser shots came in from all directions and the Jedi effectively held off the fatal shots, but Obi-Wan worried more about the ricochet. With everyone constantly in motion, stray shots caused casualties. Already, one equara buckled down and three people suffered severe injuries. This was a fight that could not be won, only survived. The swoops had the advantage of movement, firepower, and speed.  
  
Much later, Obi-Wan would realize the shots targeted the Jedi specifically, but as he jumped nimbly out of the saddle, he was too busy concentrating on calming the terrified animals. They were the only means of escape. Opening his mind, he drew on the fear and adrenaline emanating from those surrounding him, transformed it into strength and peace and focused collectively on the equaras. It took longer than he wished, but for such a large group, one minute was quite a feat. Unfortunately, it's a very long time in a battle situation.   
  
He had just enough time to see Anakin execute a rather graceful aerial maneuver that sliced through the aft thrusters of one of the swoops and sent it spinning out of control. He saw only four left, but they still inflicted significant damage. Two of the Rangers escorted the injured to the forest, Master Gallia covering their retreat.   
  
Obi-Wan dropped to the ground as another swoop buzzed overhead. He tucked it into a roll and came up on his feet, rushing to help another man back into the saddle, bloody arm clutched to his chest.   
  
"Arda!" Nauco's warning came only a second after Obi-Wan threw himself out of the way. Soil and rocks rained down and he heard an anguished shout beside him. Turning, he saw the man he just helped lying on the ground, dead eyes staring at him. The sight sent icy shivers through his soul. Immediately his eyes sought out Anakin, and found him attempting the same aerial that had taken out the other swoop. His plan backfired. Another swoop realized Anakin's tactics and though he was too late to stop Anakin's lightsaber, he came in at a ninety degree angle to Anakin and fired before he could reach the ground. Obi-Wan watched helplessly as Anakin cried out and fell to the ground. Then he ran toward the crumpled form.   
  
"Nauco! Get them out of here!"   
  
Reaching Anakin, he roughly flipped him over and pressed a hand to his neck. 'Alive, but not for long.' He pulled Anakin into his arms and summoned an equara, swiftly climbing on with his precious burden.  
  
***** 


	7. Six

Feeling very sheepish right now. I didn't know this was set to accept signed reviews only. Oops. So as an apology, here's more. This is getting close to where I'm at in writing, so I warn it might be a little while after this before another update. Enjoy…  
  
*****   
Nine  
*****  
  
Blood soaked through Anakin's clothing as Obi-Wan rode through the forest, but he couldn't afford to stop and tend the wound. The blaster shot hit just below the right shoulder blade, piercing the lung and damaging a major artery in his heart. Obi-Wan was using all of his considerable strength to draw on the life-power and keep Anakin from choking on his own blood. Cold, clammy, and shivering faintly, his body was in shock and deteriorating rapidly. Obi-Wan pleaded with his equara to push harder.  
  
He'd left the group with nothing more than a desperate look to Nauco, urging him to explain. No doubt the Jedi Master would demand to know where Anakin had disappeared to once she was satisfied the others were safe. He didn't want to waste precious time in explanations while Anakin's life bled away. Though Siesna had achieved some degree of technological advancement, it was still very much a primitive society as was reflected in their medical treatment. Even off-world transport to the nearest system with adequate facilities would take too long. Left to Siesna's provincial healing, Anakin's injuries would be fatal.   
  
As Obi-Wan passed the first marker of the Milaera border, he halted reluctantly and waited for recognition from the primary sentries, silently cursing the delay. A flicker of movement in the ceiling of trees and a faint pulse echoed in the back of his mind. He answered it impatiently, and was granted passage once his identity was confirmed.   
  
Eldalye, Forest of Secrets. Known to Obi-Wan and very few select outsiders as the home of the Quenya.   
  
A sentry approached him. "Arda Kenobi, the Elders-" but Obi-Wan brushed past him resumed his reckless pace.   
  
Anakin's breathing worsened and, coughing and gasping for air, he choked out "Please…don't die...mom…" Thrashing about, he almost unseated Obi-Wan in a frantic attempt to escape his hold.   
  
Obi-Wan tightened his grip on both the reins and Anakin as he ducked under branches, around bushes, and through hidden pathways. 'Hold on Anakin, please, hold on.' At last he reached the final marker, and with a gesture of his hand and considerable concentration of energy, the blockade of trees in his path shifted. Where there had been a solid line of thick foliage and overbearing impassable trees, there was now a worn trail, barely visible, winding through roots and tree trunks and leading down into a valley so beautiful that normally Obi-Wan would pause to take it in. But the waterfall mists and rainbow flora held no fascination for him now. He felt only the bleak awareness of time slipping away from the passionate spirit of the Jedi wrapped in his arms.   
  
*****  
  
Anakin drifted in a sea of sand.   
  
Rough and coarse, each grain abraded his skin with the ferocity of a sandstorm. Scalding heat beat down on him relentlessly, weighing him down and slowing his movement. The sand was everywhere, in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, choking him. The dry air seemed to mock his attempts to breathe. Sharp spikes of agony wreaked havoc on his nerve endings. He could feel all of this, but could see nothing. The universe remained an uninterrupted shade of grey.   
  
He tried to call for help, but no sound emerged from his throat. A bright green light, accompanied by an all too familiar hum, flared at the edge of his vision somewhere off to his left. From the reflection of the lightsaber, Anakin could make out the broad forehead, broken nose, and hawk eyes of Master Qui-Gon.   
  
He stood in a classic defensive posture, lightsaber in a two-handed grip, legs shoulder-width apart, knees bent, ready for an attack. It was a sight Anakin had seen so many times, and drew strength from: his master prepared to defend and protect. But he looked old, far too old even for his many years, and weary beyond description. And his eyes--Anakin's heart broke to see the utter desolation written there. Though Master Qui-Gon stood some distance away, Anakin heard the anguished plea clearly in the back of his mind, "It doesn't have to end this way."   
  
A flash of blood red light seared Anakin's vision. The wind stole his tears as he watched his master, now a statue of colorless sand, crumble and drift on the breeze until there was nothing left but monotonous black. Darkness closed in on Anakin with ruthless determination, bringing with it a bitter frost that made his bones ache and his heart seize. His limbs became frigid, the scorching heat a forgotten memory. Anakin tried to block out the darkness and feel something, anything other than the complete numbness that controlled him.   
  
"You're a funny little boy." Her voice echoed through the void of nothingness. Padme looked exactly as she had the day they'd met. Blue hand-woven tunic overlaid with a dull frock, her hair up in a multitude of braids, a quiet presence that did nothing to hide her angelic beauty. Anakin reached out to her, to touch, to feel something that would thaw his heart. But his hand passed though her as if she were simply an incredibly detailed holo-image. Looking more closely at the perfect artifice, Anakin perceived nothing of the shy, curious, and slightly teasing amusement that should have brightened her smile; the blank emptiness in her sable eyes made him shiver. He pulled back and the illusion disappeared.   
  
Lost in the darkness of his mind, he almost missed the whisper of his name. Like the release of a pressure valve, his heart unclenched and the universe resumed its spectacular array of color. Anakin's relief was short-lived. Once again, red consumed his sight, almost artfully decorated on worn home-spun cloth. Anakin collapsed on the ground, tenderly lifting the battered body of his mother from the blood soaked earth. Her gaze locked on him, pain and amazed delight equally balanced on her features.   
  
"Ani…" With a sigh and fragile smile, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. The shadows closed in again. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel, he couldn't see. But he could scream.   
  
*****  
Ten  
*****  
  
"There was no choice. Surely you understand that?" Locked in a battle of wills—and away from Anakin—for the past two hours, Obi-Wan's patience had long since been torn to shreds.   
  
He had transferred custody of the young Jedi into the hands of supremely skilled healers who had been practicing the art long before Obi-Wan was born. Anakin clung to life with a tenacious grip and Obi-Wan had faith in him as a survivor; a man who took such pleasure in living would not give up the right to it easily. But his intention to stay with Anakin was thwarted when Ren'aki arrived at the chamber.  
  
Ren'aki Nerae was the perfect example of who Obi-Wan should have been, at least in the Elders' opinion. She was both a leader and a follower; gifted, strong, and completely dedicated to her people. She was also stubborn, high-minded, and downright rude when she wanted to be and in most cases of disagreement, she and Obi-Wan ended up fighting like siblings. But they respected each other. And as his beliefs strayed further and further from the guidance of the Elders, she became one of the few who continued to support him, and his right to be heard.   
  
He had to keep reminding himself that he respected her as she dragged him from the healing chambers, tossed him into her private quarters, and ordered him to talk. Experience told him it was wiser to talk and leave as soon as possible, than argue about the necessity of talking. So he told her everything.   
  
And he was still here. With her midnight black hair pulled back into a single tight braid and deep brown eyes, Ren'aki could dominate the room or become part of the scenery with a simple shift in posture. At the moment, she was holding him prisoner with logic and reason, when all he wanted was to watch Anakin breathe. Rational thought was not his strong suit right now.   
  
"There's always a choice Obi-Wan, unpleasant as the alternatives may be. But the Jedi's injuries aren't the issue. It's your actions the Elders question."  
  
"I could hardly leave him there to die, Ren."   
  
"You've endangered all of us by bringing him here. We don't have the resources to protect ourselves; our only real defense is misdirection and illusion."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. He knew that just as well as she did. But leaving Anakin behind would have meant death and that was simply unacceptable. "I had to do something."  
  
Her face softened with compassion. "I know. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't. I'm not even sure I would have done anything differently. It just makes things a lot more complicated."  
  
Pacing the room in a futile effort to burn off frustration and worry, Obi-Wan rounded on her with barely veiled hostility. "You wouldn't have put yourself in that position to begin with Ren'aki, and you know it. I'm probably the only one who's left Eldalye in years. The others have no true understanding of what's going on outside these borders." He swept a hand through his hair, a visible sign of his agitation, and headed towards the entryway.   
  
"It's done, Ren. There's nothing I can do about it now. They'll either accept that, or – I'll be with the healers." He left, ignoring her protests, and followed the prompting of his heart.   
  
*****  
  
Breathing was a very painful task. As awareness slowly returned to Anakin, he considered that he'd always taken the small action for granted.   
  
'In. Out. In. Out.'   
  
Each breath was a concentrated effort in blocking out pain. After a few moments, the pain lessened to a dull ache and Anakin opened his eyes. He was lying in soft bed, his back and chest bandaged, in a circular room that seemed to have been grown rather than built. Vines, leaves, wood, and flowers stood as the only discernible walls. There were no doors, letting the cool evening air drift across his body. The place radiated the Living Force so strongly that Anakin felt like he could breath it in. Carefully, he tried to sit up, but the pain was overwhelming. He opened himself up to the Force that permeated the room and pushed back the pain, determined to find out where he was. But instead of achieving an upright position, Anakin found himself held in place by phantom hands.  
  
"I don't think you're supposed to be up and about yet."  
  
Anakin's head snapped up and he looked into the green eyes of his rescuer. Unconsciously, he relaxed into the hold, even as he railed against being controlled.  
"I'm not sure I could get very far anyway."   
  
The pressure vanished abruptly and Anakin watched as the mysterious figure crossed the room and seated himself in the chair next to Anakin's bed. Now that he had the opportunity to see more than a fleeting glimpse, Anakin absorbed his features hungrily, eager to learn more about the man in front of him. He moved gracefully, even sensually, his hips rolling in a way that dared Anakin to look southward; a compact muscled frame almost hidden by deep blue tunics. He appeared confident, with a deep-seated strength in his soul, but Anakin could sense an underlying sadness in him.   
  
Anakin absently noted a mark on his right cheek and was uncommonly pleased that this creature wasn't as perfect as he'd imagined. Auburn hair brushed his shoulders and mesmerizing green eyes stared at Anakin with undisguised interest. While it wasn't entirely uncomfortable, it did remind Anakin of the way the masters at the Temple watched him: scrutinizing every move and thought, trying to discern if he really was part of that stupid prophecy. And how they could use him to their advantage.  
  
The thought jarred him back into the present situation. "Where are the others? Where am I?"  
  
"Welcome to Eldalye, Anakin Skywalker. What do you remember?"  
  
'You,' was Anakin's first thought. He shook his head and tried to recount how he came to be injured. Their journey, the swoops, the blaster shot… "Everything up till I hit the ground. Are the others safe?"  
  
"I assume so. Your Jedi Master seemed to have the situation under control when I left. I'm sorry I can't give you more information, but I was…slightly distracted."   
  
"You saved my life," a rueful smile crossed Anakin's face, "again. Do I get to find out your name, or do I have to wait until the third time around?"  
  
A playful smile lit up his eyes as he replied, "Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
The face finally had a name. There were a million questions Anakin wanted to ask, but his eyelids grew heavy and he was desperately fighting the urge to yawn.   
  
"Rest now, Anakin. I'll be here when you wake." And once again darkness closed in on Anakin as he surrendered to healing sleep. But this time, his mind was safe from dreams.  
  
***** 


	8. Seven

So…um, thank the dedicated reader(s) who kept bugging me about this. I kinda got stuck, and then avoided this story out of fear. Don't ask why, I'm just neurotic. *g*  
  
*****  
Eleven  
*****  
  
The view of the waterfall never failed to comfort Obi-Wan. Standing on the terrace of Anakin's room, he could taste the faintest bit of moisture that drifted on the current. Dawn was fast approaching; the hint of bright orange trickled through the trees and refracted a thousand times in the steady downpour of water. The pounding rush never abated, the soothing rhythm lulled his mind into relaxation as he contemplated the force of nature. 'Such strength, all beginning with one drop of water.'  
  
A small flare of light touched his senses and he returned to Anakin's side just in time to see him wake. "Good morning," Obi-Wan's voice was barely above a whisper. Bright blue eyes and a sleepy smile greeted him, "Morning."   
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
Anakin slowly sat up, resting his back against the headboard. Obi-Wan was pleased to see the action was not as painful as last night. "Better. The herd of banthas has stopped trampling my lungs."  
  
"Sounds like an improvement."   
  
Obi-Wan stood uncertainly for a moment, watching Anakin take in his surroundings in daylight, and then moved to sit in the chair. His eyes drifted to the prisan flower just above the headboard, resting so closely to Anakin's face it could have been weaved into the braid flowing over his shoulder. With blue petals fading into a light yellow, the prisan looked as if it were designed just for Anakin, a stunningly natural complement to his eyes, once again bright with curiosity and fascination.   
  
The urgency which drove Obi-Wan vanished. There was time now, a curious pause in a chain of events, and he didn't know what to do with it. Or rather he had an idea, but didn't know where to start. But perhaps he wouldn't have to.  
  
"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Anakin's smile was infectious and he tilted his head in a question. "Who are you? What is this place? I've heard a few stories about Eldalye but…nothing that compares to this."  
  
"I should hope not. It takes a great deal of effort to keep this valley concealed from outsiders."  
  
"An enchanted forest overflowing with the Living Force… hidden by Force-sensitives." There was a hint of awed disbelief in Anakin's voice which made Obi-Wan both proud and uncomfortable at the same time. The pride was understandable, it was an amazing feat; though Obi-Wan hoped Anakin's astonishment would fade after he learned how long it had taken to achieve effective concealment and how many it took to maintain it. Unfortunately Anakin's reaction was also a reminder that his presence endangered the very feat he marveled at now.  
  
"Force, life-power, different names for the same energy. But you'll have to explain the concept of Unifying and Living… I've never been able to understand the Jedi's distinction between the two."  
  
"Anytime, but you'd be better off attending a lecture by Master Yoda. But why would this even be necessary? What do the Quenya have to hide?"  
  
The question startled a laugh out of Obi-Wan, and he knew whatever issues the Elders currently had with him, the problem had just multiplied by Anakin's unexpected knowledge. "Trust Nauco to toss out my secrets so casually."  
  
His reply seemed to sober Anakin, who leapt to the Ranger's defense. "Only to me. There was no one else to overhear us, and he only mentioned 'the Quenya' when I asked about you. And Nauco refused to tell me anything else," the rest was muffled garble that Obi-Wan just barely caught, "…even used all my tricks."   
  
Knowing that Anakin had asked about him, and that Nauco was having a little too much fun at both of their expense, it was difficult to smother the urge to retaliate in kind and instead assure Anakin that Nauco was far from being in trouble. Well, perhaps a bit of 'trouble' when Obi-Wan got his hands on him. "No real harm done, Anakin. Nauco wouldn't know so much if I didn't already trust him. For him to tell you who we are says a lot about you."   
  
"But it doesn't tell me much more about you."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled at his persistence. "Then to answer your question, the only thing we have to hide is ourselves." The Jedi's puzzlement was obvious in his open expression.  
Just as Obi-Wan was about to explain, a strong feminine voice broke in. "There's a good reason for that." Ren'aki had always possessed an immaculate sense of timing, a flare for the dramatic that Obi-Wan alternately admired and cursed. Right now the latter seemed more appropriate.   
  
She spared Anakin a glance and a nod, and turned her attention to Obi-Wan. "Arda Kenobi, the Elders have kindly requested your presence at your earliest convenience." Translation: now.   
  
The formal address revealed as much as the tight lines around her eyes. But whether her displeasure stemmed from the Elders, Anakin's inquisitive demeanor, or his own stubbornness Obi-Wan couldn't determine. "Thank you, Ren. I'll be along shortly."   
  
After a sharp nod, she hesitated, and then, "It is good to see you are recovering nicely, Jedi Skywalker." Obi-Wan was surprised when the normally protocol-bound Ren'aki left without waiting for a reply.  
  
With great reluctance, he stood and gave a weak smile. "I should be back soon. Explore as you like, but don't strain yourself. Another day or two and you should be back to flying through the air."  
  
Anakin rolled his eyes. "If I recall correctly, that's what landed me here."  
  
With a more genuine smile, Obi-Wan replied, "No, what got you here was a fast equara and a determined rider."   
  
*****  
Twelve  
*****  
  
The breeze drifted across the open space, warm, cloying, almost suffocating; much like the accusing glares directed his way. So different from the calm, cool currents of the morning. Obi-Wan stood in the center of the rectangular wooden platform, suspended in the middle of the forest, his attention wandering between the harsh voices of the six Elders and the simple embellishments carved into the floor.   
  
The austere pattern of vines flowed with the grain of wood, then spiraled in different directions, fracturing, asymmetrical, growing more complex and more beautiful; yet still bound to the single vine at its center. As his visits to this sacred place became more frequent, the design gained deeper meaning and provided Obi-Wan with hope. He clung to that hope almost desperately as the knot of foreboding in the pit of his stomach grew worse.   
  
"Secrecy has been our only defense for generations. I find it difficult to believe you would so callously disregard the safety of our people, Obi-Wan." The resigned expression on Ken-yi Alar's face saddened Obi-Wan.   
  
From early childhood, Ken-yi had been his guide, a respected mentor who taught Obi-Wan the intricacies of harnessing and directing the life-power. He instilled the respect for life, the sense of responsibility such power engendered, the duty that came with this calling. If not for Ken-yi, he would never have achieved the rank of Arda, a mage of the old tradition. Now they stood on opposing sides of the same principles, and Obi-Wan could see no way to bridge the gap.   
  
Ken-yi's thoughts seemed to have followed a similar path, his comforting baritone tinged with grief as he regarded his one time student. "We have tolerated your excursions outside of Eldalye. We have listened to your arguments. I can even respect your tenacity in holding to your convictions. But this is more than a philosophical disagreement."  
  
Venale Denor took over the narrative, her voice cold and hard with contempt. "Bringing the Jedi here was a direct violation of our orders. I'm not sure you understand the consequences of what you've done. Tell me, what will happen when the Jedi leaves and reports our existence to his Council? Our people were hunted mercilessly during the so-called Sith War over millennia ago, by warriors of both the Dark and the Light! "  
  
Obi-Wan remained silent. Clearly this was anything but the open debate of past disagreements. Venale almost looked as if she enjoyed the opportunity to insult him by reminding him of the legends every Quenya knew as well as they knew how to draw breath.   
  
"We were once a thriving civilization, dedicated to life above all things. Reduced to displaced refugees being chased across the galaxy because the righteous fools decided their way was the only way."  
  
'A decision you are close to repeating,' Obi-Wan thought.   
  
"Their division eliminated any existing tolerance for our beliefs, and now, when we have finally disappeared into memory, you threaten to expose us?"  
  
So this was how they were going to play it. Venale could invoke ancient struggles and a noble history filled with martyrs, but she--all of them, even Ken-yi--adamantly refused to acknowledge the price of their all important secrecy. All of Siesna could fall to Darkness in a travesty of injustice. Simply because inaction guaranteed secrecy.  
  
"I have done nothing but save a life," Obi-Wan said. One life that could become two, twenty, a hundred; when had the Quenya ever believed that the good of the many outweighed the individual?   
  
The angry protests that followed his statement assaulted his ears, before Ken-yi managed to regain order. "Obi-Wan, you must admit there are consequences to your actions." Ken-yi lowered his head as a mirthless laugh escaped him. "You had to rescue one of the two Jedi on the entire planet."  
  
Obi-Wan's heart clenched as a picture of Anakin, lying broken and bleeding on the ground, pierced through his frustrated anger and replaced it with inflexible conviction. "He was a dying man that I could help. I accept responsibility, but I can't change what's happened, nor would I do any differently given the chance to."   
  
Venale smiled. Ken-yi simply looked at him, his face unreadable, while the others turned away. The silence was deafening.  
  
After a long moment, Ken-yi replied, "And that is what most concerns us. We have not come by this decision lightly, Obi-Wan. But you have left us no other choice."  
  
Venale's voice grated on Obi-Wan's nerves, "We cannot keep the Jedi here against his will, but we can prevent others from coming here. By your own admittance, you would place Eldalye in danger for the sake of a single individual, and for this we cannot trust you."  
  
Time slowed, and her next words seemed very loud and small, spoken over a great distance and whispered into his ear. "Arda Obi-Wan Kenobi, to protect our people, our knowledge, our way of life, you are hereby banished from the borders of Eldalye. You will depart at sunrise tomorrow, accompanied by the Jedi."  
  
*****  
  
tbc 


	9. Eight

AN: Wow. For anyone still waiting for this, I admire your determination. It has most definitely NOT left me, but I cannot promise regular updates given the state of my life right now. Anything written from this point on is un-beta-ed, because I simply feel guilty for making any beta wait for irregular updates. I do have one more chapter that should up soon, after that, it depends on inspiration and reviews. Again, for those who have been following and are willing to stick with it, I thank you. It means more than you know.

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**Recap**: Anakin is recovering from almost fatal wounds received from defending the diplomatic envoy touring the provinces. Obi-Wan's efforts to deliver him to the skilled healers of the Quenya have endangered what the Quenya value most: the secrecy that is key to their survival. As a result, the Elders have judged that Obi-Wan be banished from Eldalye...

**_Thirteen_**

Somehow Anakin doubted that other Jedi's trials had been quite so...trying. It seemed that everything was destined to go wrong: from the inauspicious beginning on Coruscant to his second, and nearly fatal, injury. The assignment certainly looked much simpler when reading through the mission brief.

'Investigate Siesna's petition for admittance to the Republic. Should your recommendation be favorable, the Council will advise the Senate to grant Protectorate status.'

A recommendation with a fully detailed report. That was all he had to do. Yet there were so many other factors to consider it made Anakin's head spin.

"Beautiful view." The soft spoken comment jolted Anakin out of his reverie.

'How does he do that?' Anakin thought with a touch of exasperation. But when he turned to address Obi-Wan, any sarcastic comment about sneaking up on recovering padawans lay forgotten on his tongue.

They stood in a secluded area of the forest floor, the woodland city spread out before them, the great waterfall barely visible through the trees from this vantage point. Anakin had seen fascinating cultures in his apprenticeship, universally renowned architecture, breathtaking vistas on worlds both desolate and bountiful. He could scarcely recall ever seeing a more beautiful example of technological ecology; an amalgamation of the tree-grown cities in the forest canopy of Kashyyysk, the ancient majestic structures on Naboo, and the bustling technology of Coruscant. A captivating scene that ensnared Anakin's wandering eyes as he pondered his current dilemma.

And all of it ceased to exist; his world narrowed down to the mystified expression on Obi-Wan's face. He reminded Anakin of a lost child and a sudden surge of protectiveness prompted him to ask, "Are you alright?"

A feeble smile from Obi-Wan and Anakin's question was turned back to him. "Are you?"

Questions answered with questions were designed to teach patience, not irritate young padawans. Or so said Master Qui-Gon. "No, but you knew that already."

The smile had more of a hold now as Obi-Wan replied, "I don't know everything."

"I hope not. Where's the fun in that?" And the brilliant smile reached Obi-Wan's eyes while Anakin's stomach did a curious flip. "You should smile more often."

"Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem with you around."

Anakin marveled at how comfortable he was in Obi-Wan's presence. There was an honesty and openness about him, so different from the reserve and restraint of other Jedi, the suffocating atmosphere of the Temple. Anakin knew he should feel guilty for thinking that way, but he couldn't help but compare. Here in Eldalye, there was more than just the Living Force, there was...living: emotions, running freely, accepted and embraced by the whole community. What the Jedi could learn from them...the Quenya alone were enough to recommend Siesna.

Spying a convenient fallen tree, Anakin sat and gingerly stretched his limbs. "What do the Quenya have to hide? Why the secrecy?" Anakin immediately regretted asking when Obi-Wan flinched as if struck.

"Fear. Of repeating ancient history." Anakin sensed this topic struck a little too close to home and loath to lose the camaraderie he'd gained, swiftly changed the subject. "Why does Siesna want to become a member world?"

"Aside from the advancements in medical technology?" Obi-Wan asked, accompanied by a pointed look at Anakin's barely visible bandages.

'Well that's definitely one point in favor.' Anakin consciously relaxed his sore muscles, reminding himself to conserve his energy for healing. "True. But the machinations of government are more about who has what, who wants it, and how they can get it than any concept of freedom or democracy. Altruism is often a foreign concept in the Senate."

Teasing green eyes regarded him carefully. "A cynic already?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've inherited my master's disdain for galactic politics."

"Yet you will dedicate your life to mediating their disputes," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Something about that statement bothered Anakin, but he couldn't figure out what. So he settled for a neutral answer. "I am a Jedi."

"What does that mean?" Anakin's face must have shown some of his hostility because Obi-Wan hastened to add, "I don't mean to insult you. I'm just asking what being a Jedi means to you."

And wonder of wonders, Anakin couldn't find an answer. He'd always identified 'Jedi' as individuals. Master Gallia, Master Windu, Yoda, Tru, Qui-Gon. Each had their own quirks, mannerisms, likes, dislikes; they were people first and foremost to Anakin.

Since that first meeting with Master Qui-Gon, Anakin held up his master as an example of what it meant to be a Jedi. His sense of nobility and justice were as much a part of his personality as his tendency to pick up lost causes. But what made him Jedi? It was more than wielding a lightsaber, even more than training and mastery in using the Force, for it was clear the Jedi were not the only beings to do so.

The Jedi Code lurked ominously in the back of Anakin's mind. But reciting a set of words that had no meaning for him would constitute lying, to himself, and to Obi-Wan, something he found detestable. Obi-Wan's question remained, and Anakin knew he wasn't ready to see the answer. Perhaps if he didn't say it, it wouldn't be real.

Obi-Wan allowed him his silence. Anakin sighed. His personal dilemma was unlikely to be resolved soon, so he refocused on why he was here. "Admitting Siesna to the Republic would be an invitation for exploitation."

Obi-Wan looked away, watching the wind play in the leaves, his earlier melancholy tainting his reply. "But are they any better off hiding, isolated from the rest of the galaxy? Something else is already here, taking advantage of a 'naïve backwater planet' with no outside resources."

Something clicked in Anakin's mind. "The mines." In return, he received a curious look. "Before...on the balcony, the woman said she'd escaped from the mines. What the--Darkness--wants, has something to do with the mines."

"In Nemagi Province?" Certainty swiftly followed the suspicion on Obi-Wan's face.

"Yes. How far is that from here?" Anakin wished there was a way to contact Master Gallia, but he couldn't shake the sense of urgency that gripped him.

"Two days ride, and then the mountains. Are you sure you're up to it?"

Anakin looked up at him, determined to override any argument about his abilities. And saw nothing but open concern. It warmed his heart and made him wonder why his first instinct was always defensive. Did he really feel the need to prove himself so often? "I think so," he answered.

Obi-Wan's eyes assessed the truth of that, and after a moment, nodded to himself and said, "We leave tomorrow morning."

tbc

Please review...


	10. Nine

AN: Much as I wish otherwise this part is short, mostly because there is not good way to connect it to any other part. Doing so would take away from the scene, I think. Any and all feedback appreciated, though flames will be laughed at.

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**_Fourteen_**

_Everything has changed. Too many secrets sleep with too many lies. Truth waits behind every corner. His agents report limited success of the attack in Embare. The Jedi are still alive. Plans are unraveling, promises breaking, and power falling. The longer the Jedi survive, the shorter his life becomes. His sanity, long suspect, begins to fade as the reality of his fragile position overwhelms him._

Much as Anakin wished to stay and explore Eldalye, time and circumstance necessitated a hasty departure. Dawn had yet to break and the morning was wrapped in a comfortable stillness, much like the dew painted on the canvas of forest, as Obi-Wan and Anakin gathered their supplies and saddled their equaras.

A refreshing night's sleep had done wonders for Anakin. His injuries were healing well and although he should be resting, he knew how far he could push. The easy calm with Obi-Wan proved to be more than a passing moment; in fact Anakin was just beginning to realize how much tension he carried with him on a daily basis by letting it go in Obi-Wan's presence. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this free to be himself, without censure, instruction or restraint. It was intoxicating.

And he had two days of Obi-Wan all to himself. Certainly they were on a mission, heading toward the source of what they believed to be the foothold of Darkness on Siesna. But it would take two days to get there.

Anakin mounted his equara, his anxiety dissolving as he saw Obi-Wan do the same. He would have started in on his million and one questions immediately if not for the arrival of Ren'aki Nerae.

He had only a hazy recollection of meeting this woman, and it was not favorable to say the least. But who was she to Obi-Wan that she would see him off? Their body language told Anakin they weren't lovers, and they differed too greatly in appearance to be related. But what puzzled him most was the complete lack of conversation.

Ren'aki simply stood there, watching Obi-Wan with sad resignation. Obi-Wan returned the look with one of his own, time passing unnoticed by either of them. The morning sun filtered through the treetops to highlight the gold in Obi-Wan's hair as he bowed his head. "Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled with tears in her eyes. Looking up, he captured her gaze and said "Goodbye, Ren."

"Arda Kenobi." Her voice was strong and sure, carried on the winds to ring out through the forest.

Obi-Wan's smile was painful to watch and again Anakin curbed his instinct to comfort and protect. He had no idea what was happening, but its effect on Obi-Wan was obvious. He felt as though he should promise Ren'aki that he would return him safe and unharmed, but Anakin dared not break the moment.

He waited for Obi-Wan to take the lead, and followed him without looking back.

tbc


	11. Ten

**AN**: Longer update this time! You have no idea how long i've labored over this bit. Any feedback is helpful - (do you think the philosophical argument is logical? do it make sense in the flow of the story?)

**AN2**: i've paraphrased a famous psychologist that i can't for the life of me remember, just so's you know it's not mine. and if anyone reads this, can you spot the movie quote?

Big thank you to angel, solo23 and SpencerBrown. I find this version of Obi-Wan fascinating--not to mention the What If's re: Qui-Gon and Anakin and how this Obi influences them. And Anakin will definitely get his chance to play hero...

Enjoy

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**_Fourteen Cont._**

The two made good time through the forest, skirting the edge of the Milaera border and crossing into Teann'run Province, composed largely of grain fields interspersed with clusters of trees. Their journey would take them through the whole of Teann'run and into the mountain border of their destination: Nemagi. Obi-Wan suggested they keep away from the villages, and Anakin agreed. He still felt he should contact Master Gallia but couldn't fix the comlink. It stung his pride to admit it, but parts didn't grow on trees and he didn't have the time to see if Quenya technology was adaptable to Republic standard.

In some not so small way, Anakin was relieved that he wouldn't get a chance to explain. He had no idea where to begin with Obi-Wan.

The riders spoke little during the day. Anakin had conveniently forgotten in his excitement how difficult it was to carry on conversation when traveling at a pace that promised an unpleasant soreness tomorrow.

Nevertheless, he found himself doing what his master had tried to pound into his mind. He was enjoying the moment. The feel of the wind blowing through his hair, the powerful animal racing beneath him, the smell of natural un-recycled air, the taste of wood and grass on the tip of his tongue, that ever-elusive feeling of freedom that bubbled inside like laughter, and most of all that bright presence beside him...this moment was almost perfect.

Before he knew it, dusk had settled and they were stopping to set up camp for the night.

The silence certainly couldn't last forever. As comfortable as it was, Anakin was a naturally exuberant person.

So he started talking. And apparently couldn't stop. During the years of his apprenticeship, and after some spectacularly embarrassing moments best left forgotten, he'd painfully worked on censoring his speech. He had the sinking feeling that someone had removed the filter from his brain to his mouth.

Anakin knew he must be sounding horribly egotistical and Obi-Wan was only listening out of either polite interest or sheer boredom, maybe both. But every time he risked checking his companion for signs of annoyance, he was met by those brilliant, enigmatic eyes and was forced to look away, else he be lost completely.

"...never like this. Tatooine is so hot that you barely want to move during mid-day, even the shops close - the ones that can afford it - when the suns are at their peak in the sky. At night, it's the complete opposite, like the planet's trying to make up for the heat of the day. Mom always teased me about needing extra blankets. Back then, I didn't think anything could be colder. Imagine my surprise when I visited Hoth."

A discrete snicker came from Obi-Wan's direction. Anakin continued anyway.

"But after Wattoo let me go for the day, just when the suns are setting over the horizon, after the heat and before the cold, I'd sit on our tiny little balcony, feet dangling over the edge. Mom stood behind me, ready with a blanket. I remember leaning back against her, watching as the stars slowly replaced the fading light of the suns."

He could almost feel the warmth of her now, comforting, safe. The rough fabric and worn hands holding him gently, her voice weaving through his mind carrying fantastic tales with a hint of the elegant accent he'd never been able to place and hadn't dared to ask about.

"She'd tell me stories. The way she told them...I could feel every one like it'd happened to me. Courageous knights, just princes, dashing pilots, fearless rebels...Every star has a story, she said."

"Tell me one?" Friendly and curious, the request made him smile with shy pleasure.

He deflected the question with a self-conscious laugh, "You mean I haven't talked your ear off yet?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, smiled a bit and said, "I like listening. And you mother was right -- each star has a story."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Mothers are always right."

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

'Yes, she is,' he thought. He hadn't talked about her in years, not really...not since his first year with Master Qui-Gon. An idle comment, a forced confession, an image on a mission, that was all Anakin allowed himself in public. It upset people to hear him talk about her. Even his master, who'd met Shmi, could only try to understand. He never stopped trying and Anakin loved him for it, but even Qui-Gon treated his mother like an illness he could get over if he'd only let himself heal. It was a harsh judgment and probably a bit unfair, but Anakin couldn't deny the truth of his feelings, even if the Jedi could.

Much as he struggled with the concept, at the age of ten he'd been afraid to test his master's patience and tolerance over what should have been such a trivial part of any Jedi's life. His mother was locked behind tight shielding, keeping his memories secret and safe.

Sometimes he had to stop himself from wondering if she was still alive. After all, he'd know if anything happened to her. Wouldn't he?

"You miss her."

"I...yes."

"When was your last visit?"

Startled, Anakin stared at Obi-Wan blankly, unable to reply. He watched Obi-Wan's curiosity change to concern, eyebrows furrowing and his mouth turning down a bit at the edges. While the rest of him tried to formulate any kind of response, some part of him idly thought 'a mouth like that should never frown.'

"I--I haven't...I mean, I can't. It's--it's not allowed. Parents. Seeing. Visiting parents, that is."

Did he imagine that flicker of anger in Obi-Wan's eyes? "I thought you knew. You seemed to know a lot about the Jedi..."

Obi-Wan looked down at the meager fire Anakin didn't remember him building. "I'm sorry. I thought... I do know the Jedi policy, or at least their history regarding family. But you...you know and love your mother, she's not a concept or a biological fact to you. She's influenced your life, shaped who you are. I can't believe--" He cut off abruptly and Anakin was desperately curious to know what he would have said. Instead, he received another apology.

"No, it's alright. I'm just...why would you think that?"

Obi-Wan seemed lost in thought for a moment and just when Anakin wanted to prod further, he shook his head and gave Anakin a sad little half-smile. "Ken-yi used to say 'Give me a boy until the age of seven, and I will show you the man.'"

The hint of sadness puzzled Anakin, but he was still trying to follow Obi-Wan's reasoning. "Each person becomes who they will be by the age of seven? Or...our personality doesn't really change after that?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "It varies for each species of course, but barring any major traumatic events, our moral values, social responses, most elements of our personality are influenced by the primary caretaker. They are essentially our example of what living is."

Intellectually, Anakin had learned all of this years ago. Though it took some time to phrase it as poetically simple as this Ken-yi had done, he understood the principle. That was why potential Jedi were taken from their parents at such a young age. He had known all this, even recognized the negative impact it had on his own studies-- after all, his lack of a similar foundation was blindingly obvious from the start.

Jedi methods were both overt and subtle in implementation. Couched in logic, it wasn't even debatable. The teaching masters had always carefully emphasized the emotional conflict that might arise during a mission, between one "family" and the other, and how easily the conflict was resolved by forming ties to only one family-- the Jedi.

But never had it seemed quite so...manipulative. Creating the perfect Jedi, carefully shaping a personality loyal to and dependent on the same moral values...the Code. Manipulative. It wasn't a word he was used to associating with people like Tru or Healer Bant or Master Qui-Gon. Disturbing and confusing. He wanted answers, but suspected they wouldn't satisfy him.

"Do you think people become who they were born or... how they were taught?"

Obi-Wan paused a moment, thinking, and Anakin felt a rush of gratitude and relief. Here was someone on the outside, unable to parrot Jedi platitudes, someone Anakin could trust to speak openly and honestly about his questions and would take them seriously. Someone he could hold on to while his certainties crumbled.

"I think that the insistence on trying to separate the two is...inappropriate. Each influences the other in balance. There are things no training can account for. How do you teach compassion? Certainly you can tell someone it is right to help and wrong to hurt. But do they know why? Can you teach them to feel your throat tightening, eyes stinging, chest aching in sympathy? On the other hand, you can train movements, automatic responses, present a model for social behavior, demonstrate and drill right and wrong by reward and punishment."

Obi-Wan sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "In the end though, you can only trust that the child or student has internalized your teaching. Who you are will affect what you learn and how you interpret it. Yet your training will shape the person you become. It's just...unpredictable."

It took quite some time for this to settle in his mind, to find where this piece of the puzzle fit in his life. Obi-Wan let him be, quietly making his way around the fire, until a bowl of soup found its way into his hands. His mind was far away from the smell of spiced murron, but still he lifted the spoon to his mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing absently.

When he'd finished, he set the bowl down and watched as Obi-Wan set about cleaning up. Anakin decided his initial impression was correct--he moved with a natural grace that couldn't be taught, but in efficient controlled actions that came from a lifetime of training.

He asked again, his voice more subdued. "Why did you think the Jedi would let me see my mother?"

Obi-Wan stopped, looked at him and understood. Anakin could tell by the way he hesitated to speak, probably knowing exactly where Anakin's mind was right now. Yet he still gave Anakin what he needed.

"I simply thought they knew you were already your own person. There was nothing to gain in denying you contact with her."

'And everything to lose,' Anakin's mind finished. The Council had forcibly tried to sever his ties to the most important person in his life, whose only wrong had been to raise him as best she could without the guidance of the Jedi. She was a wild card, one they couldn't predict or control.

Other, smaller incidents, too numerous to count, began to play though his mind, painting a very bleak portrait of his second home. Initiates weeded out before apprenticeship based on subtle signs of ideological or emotional impurity, children being let go into the universe with their only dream crushed beyond recognition and forever embittered, resentment of Anakin for having been reluctantly accepted in spite of flaws that sent other, better candidates packing...Anakin's world was spinning with ideas and suspicions and the Force around him swirled violently in time with his emotions.

The constant worry, fear, and longing that didn't need to be...if only and maybe...

It sickened him. But mostly, it hurt.

He knew, but he hadn't _known_.

It burned through him so painfully he didn't have room for the anger such knowledge should bring, consuming him so completely that he missed Obi-Wan's movement.

Gradually he became aware of arms wrapped around him, soothing him, waves of calm and sympathy washing over him. Anakin came back to himself slowly and finally heard the hushed apology echoing behind him. He covered one of Obi-Wan's hands with his own, gently stilling the flow of words.

His mind was a mess. An angry, frustrated, hurting mess. But he wasn't going to lose it. So his entire perception of the Jedi Order had shifted. So what if he'd just created a hundred more questions and doubts about his supposedly unalterable and prophetic destiny? So what if at the near end of his apprenticeship, he found himself wondering if it was ever really what he wanted?

That was no reason to fall apart.

He focused his breathing, concentrated on letting go of conscious thought, and found himself basking in the bright light behind him.

When he felt in control again, he tried to pull away and slowly Obi-Wan relaxed his arms. Unable to think of anything that would reassure his companion, he settled for "I'm fine."

Choked laughter escaped Obi-Wan, and despite how much of a mess Anakin was, the sound instantly relaxed him.

"I don't think that means what you think it means," he said dryly and Anakin had to fight to contain a laugh of his own. For the hundredth time marveled that Obi-Wan always managed to turn his mood so easily just by being himself.

"Okay, so I'm not fine. I will be though. A minor breakdown won't keep me down for long."

"I'm so sorry, Anakin." And he looked it too, Anakin noted. He could almost feel how much Obi-Wan wanted to take back everything he'd said and protect him from the pain. That look soothed the last of the burning edges still raging inside.

He offered a weak, but genuine smile. "There are some hurts you can't save me from, Obi-Wan."

_tbc_

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